


A Bit of Indiscretion

by MyckiMor



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Humour, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 17:46:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1950408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyckiMor/pseuds/MyckiMor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They make it a full six months, acting like professional, discreet adults.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bit of Indiscretion

**Author's Note:**

> I have absolutely no freaking idea where this one came from. Just, kinda’ like… roll with it, for me? I’d sincerely appreciate it if you would do just that. ^^;;;;. ;). ~ <3 ~.

They make it a full six months, acting like professional, discreet adults. Their relationship is no secret. Oh, everyone on staff at the hospital knows that he’s dating Will Graham, a former patient and well-known hand to the FBI. The nurses ask him how things are going, from time to time. One of the night guards asks him to say ‘hello’ to Will, at  _least_  twice a week. Even a couple of his patients like to make comments about his affairs (most of which, he pointedly ignores). There is nothing to hide, but there is no need for bragging, either. Even when Will comes to bring him lunch, everything is kept appropriate. Frederick prides himself in this, knowing that they are fully-capable of keeping themselves in-check while around other people, and leaving the public displays for after business hours.

That is, until they get caught making out in Frederick’s office, groping at one another like two horny teenagers in the back of his father’s car.

One of the day nurses – Kristen – is standing in the doorway, staring at the two of them with wide, comical, ‘I-can’t-believe-I’m-seeing-this’ eyes. Frederick is pretty sure he’s doing a fair imitation of a dying fish, while Will has jumped to his feet in a too-late attempt to erase the obvious impropriety of the situation.

“Th-This,” Frederick begins, glancing a Will for a brief moment, before returning his eyes to the girl in the doorway. “This isn’t what it-…” Here, he finds himself pausing, not making it to ‘looks like’. Because, really, how  _isn’t_  this what it looks like? Frederick, himself, is still sprawled out on his now-otherwise-empty desk, propped up on his elbows, while his other-half is half-way across the room, fingers fumbling to button his shirt back up. It isn’t as if no one knows, or at least _suspects_  that this sort of thing is  _bound_  to happen, one way or another. It’s likely just been a matter of  _when._

Back in the doorway, Kristen is still watching the two men, though now with a little smile threatening to cross her lips. It suddenly makes more sense to Frederick, in a strange sort of a way. Sure, he’s been the subject of workplace gossip, but, even  _this_  is new territory for him.

He finds himself smirking.

“This isn’t anything you don’t already know it to be,” Frederick says, at last, easing himself into a proper sitting position, legs hanging over the side of his desk. Over by the filing cabinets, Will makes a sound that’s half-way between shock, and embarrassed horror.  _He’ll get over it,_  is all that Frederick spares time to consider, before he looks back to Kristen. “Tell me, who won the pool?” It’s an ambitious assumption, for all intents and purposes, but he takes it on a hunch. The figurative pay-off comes when Kristen bites her lip, seemingly fighting off a full-on grin.

“Marissa, I think,” she admits, bravely, hand grasping the doorknob a bit tighter. “Sorry, Sir. I should have knocked, a bit louder.”

Holding up a hand, Frederick dismisses her apology. “All is forgiven.” He glances around, looking for his cane amongst the various papers, writing utensils, and other assorted office equipment scattered across the floor. “But, do congratulate Marissa for me, won’t you?”

“Ahhh, yes, Sir. I will.” With that, Kristen closes the door, a soft  _click_  the final signal that they are once again alone.

Frederick moves back off the desk, smoothing out his shirt and straightening his tie, both, before physically continuing the search for his cane. It’s another moment, entirely, before Will clears his throat.

“What the hell was that about?” Will asks, voice still slightly off-kilter.

Without looking up, Frederick smiles. “Another step in  _not_  keeping up appearances.”


End file.
